The Good Old Days

And not so far a way
I bumped into a friend
From another time, another way.

The things we had in common
No longer were of interest to me
From the way of life that paired us up
Passing time has set me free.

A friend he was and a friend he is
Passing judgement is not my game
He will go his way and I’ll go mine
And in memory a friend he will remain.

Then as we shake hands and part
And walk off in our separate ways
I chalk it up as a memory
A memory of the Good Old Days.

- Robert Edgar Deitz